


Finding Home

by vizarding



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Kingdom Hearts, Canon - Kingdom Hearts Chain Of Memories, Canon - Kingdom Hearts I, Canon - Kingdom Hearts II, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Original Character(s), Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:06:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vizarding/pseuds/vizarding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been years since the disastrous events that happened in the World That Never Was-- much else has happened, wars fought, lovers kissed, book ends, etc. etc. and all of that. And now, after all this time, a mysterious force restores the organization to life. But why? Before they can find those answers, they must face each other, and the many obvious betrayals that had lead to their destruction. Can they survive themselves before the rest of the worlds realize they are back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hidden Project

Radiant Garden was in a state of repair— it had been a long time coming, of course, and they were working hard to put the ‘Garden’ back into Radiant Garden. As things were calm, it had allowed this project to become the primary goal of the many familiar faces that never gave up on their home. Restoring it to the splendor Sora had never known, but was excited to see. As he always was, even into adulthood, excited for each new adventure. He’d grown into quite the young man, tall and proud, lean and muscled, all that one would expect of a hero. He did well to hide the slight limp in his step. Waving to those as he passed, he made his way to one of the sole flourishing trees where the stranger waited for him.

Their golden hair falling over shoulders, they held up a small notebook as he approached, a bright smile on freckled fair skin. “I believe this is your’s.”

“Did you get everything you need from it?” He plopped down next to her; rubbing his palms against the fresh grass, just for the pleasant thing. “I could wait a little longer, I know— well, I don’t. I’m not a teacher, but I can guess making lesson plans takes a while.”

“No, no,” they continued to hold up the book, slender wrist tipping it forward. An urge for him to take it as they smiled easy. “I told you, I needed it for two days. I copied what I need copied. Holding on to such important documents makes me nervous, what if I were to lose it!”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s not like we don’t have them backed up in the computer!” He laughed, scratching the back of his spikey head. He took it, nonetheless, as it didn’t appear they were going to cease getting it into his hands. “Is your class going to start next semester? Maybe it’s a little self indulgent, but I’d love to stop in.”

“Oh my, you’re going to make me self-conscious.” They gasped, voice so small, hand on their chest. “I would hate to deliver your history wrong.”

“Whaaaat, no, why would you think that? I’m sure it’ll go great! I’ll invite Riku and Kairi, we could be special guests! Just give me a date, I could get you—“ Sora was cut off with the sound of screaming nearby. The workers he’d just greeted were scattered, small shadows crawling over the ground, attempting to swallow the legs of those slower than the others. 

Sora was up in a moment, keyblade summoned to his hand, and in another moment traveled across the courtyard, one slice, two slices, a third for good measure. Experience ahead of himself, it was second nature; such a small and weak group had no means to catch him off guard, yet the frustration still boiled. Why? Why were they still here? Had they not solved this already, had they not cleaned up the mess that had soiled countless worlds? Even if the battle was not hard, it was just the ever constant reminder his work wasn’t done. “What even made them appear here?”

“It’s unfortunate, there’s still this trouble. You must be very tired.” The stranger’s small voice found him from behind. 

Sora sighed and swung his blade down on the last scrittering bug at his feet. “Yeah… yeah. I did a clean sweep this morning, but looks like I missed a nest. I should go do another, just to make sure. Sorry I’m going to have to cut this short, I really wanted to talk more, ha, too bad your class isn’t exactly history—” He turned and strangely, said stranger was not there.

They didn’t seem to be anywhere around. Instead greeted by the workers who scrambled to his side to thank him for his quick savior and praise him, but he couldn’t focus. They sounded… right behind him. 

“Sora!” Gravel crunched as Riku jogged over, hand on his shoulder. “Sora, we got a Thresholder, a possessor floated in with m…” He trailed off as his eyes found what was in Sora’s hand held to his chest. “What are you doing with that file?”

“Eh? Riku— Riku, you’re here!”

“Yes. I am. I’m talking to you.” He waved away the civilians, brushing bangs from his face as he once again looked to the notebook in Sora’s hand, a scowl tugging on his face. He pointed. “What are you doing with that?”

“Huh— oh! A new professor was setting up a history class on the origin of nobodies and their defeat. I ran into them when they put in a request form and, well, I wanted to help! Who can get better information than me.”

“Sora! You can’t just share our secret information with people!”

“What’s so secret about it? It’s for a class! Maybe it’ll help people!”

There was a moment of silence, and Sora’s determined little frown glaring up against Riku’s distrust. It’s not as if his paranoia was always so unfounded. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You are sure this was a professor?”

“Do you think I’m some sort of idiot?” Sora huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “They showed me their ID. Some trust will never kill you, Riku.

Now what was that about a thresholder?”

“Shit—“

* * *

“He bought the fake ID.”

A loud crack echo’d through the training room, another wooden board shattered, a practice dummy flew across the room, a grunt and cry of force.

“And the sob story of the poor, delayed history professor, an _innocent_ only wanting to do good. One sad look, a small tear of gratitude… See, this is why I had to go. I have the look of innocence _you_ could never. All your barbaric muscles, you’re too intimidating. If you went, you’d be complaining how he didn’t buy it, and our plans are all for naught, and he’d be too suspicious to believe someone else asking for it—“

“Get to the point, El.” Said muscled woman picked up her towel, wiping the sweat from her workout away from her eyes. Dark hair matted and clinging to her face.

This was met with a flat look. And a sigh. 

A decorated translucent flashdrive was presented in El’s spindly fingers. “With the information acquired from the keybearer’s personal files, I was able to calibrate the rest of the data— with no help from you, mind you— and using this we should be able to launch the project from our drivers and proceed, as instructed, Sam. Which means you should—”

Sam snatched the drive from their partner, grinning madly. “I can’t believe it. He’s so fucking stupid. How could they let him run around. Gullible little ass.”

“Be careful with that!” El stood up, arms flailing and unfortunately missing as Sam held it from reach. “It’s delicate piece of technology!” 

“Duh! I helped make it! I know it’s delicate!”

“Then treat it as such! Brute!” 

“Call me a brute one more fucking time, I’ll break you.” Sam growled, getting right in her unfortunate partner’s face. The two hadn’t seen each other in years, for good reason, and the only thing they could agree on was they’d rather had kept it that way.

El gulped. Straightening up, brushing off their sundress. Such behavior wasn’t becoming. “Threats. Typical. You can’t solve anything without violence. It does not matter if you helped create our equipment, you’d just as soon break it.”

“And there you go with that superior attitude. _Typical_.” Sam mocked their town, tossing the towel to the side and untying their sash and tossing her gi top aside. She tugged at the binding on her breasts, letting out a breath and causing El to look away with a scowl of their own.

“If you ever let me finish, it would be best for you to wash yourself so we can get back to Master Yensid. He’s awaiting us. Prepare yourself to use those dried up manners you once had.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“His Majesty, King Mickey, is expecting something soon. We have his approval for this experiment, and it would be best to start immediately. We need to know it works, so we can enter the trial period and then—“

“I know, I know, whatever!” A sniff under her arm. Okay, yeah, maybe she needed a shower. “I can’t wait to see their faces. They’re going to be so pissed. It’ll be hilarious.”

“I don’t see what’s so hilarious about upsetting the keybearers. They’ve done so much in their time.” El hugged themselves. “We’ve done enough to upset them in the past.” 

“Like they know. And I hope you’ve been keeping it that way.” 

“You’re threatening me again.” 

“I can’t believe that damn mouse is such a pussy he couldn’t just ask them for the damn files.”

“Don’t insult the king!”

* * *

 The two stepped into their small room in the basement of Yensid’s Mysterious Tower, the dozens of monitors setting a haunting blue glow across the walls of the increasingly small space. The combination of technology and magic was not as rare a commodity as it had been when they had begun the use of it, yet it still required much more care than other usages of such factors separately. More equipment added to handle the complex systems and auxiliary power, the less space they had to move around. 

As everything about their partnership, the clutter was, unfortunate, as it meant they needed to be literally shoulder to shoulder at times. And now, with their program able to launch, they’d need to spend however many days, maybe even weeks, in this small space together.

Such was not very promising for their work ethic.

They had already butted heads, again literally, many times over the course of being commissioned by the king for their unique skills and it had probably been cause of certain delays. From El’s nose held high, to Sam’s fist held higher; dozens of smashed keyboards from said powerful fist, to melted wires due to the rare occasion El’s magic became unstable with emotions.

Days of reconstruction, building on the rare photo, the files of extracted from memory, setting things as they were and preparing the stage for the trial period. Both nervous for the coming days and not looking forward to the idea of what a failed trial period would mean. They wanted this to work, the both of them, another rare unspoken agreement between the two of them.

A long dead, long forgotten world swept into being in a dark corner of the universe, where the events would take place, where all of it would start. Hopefully the start of something long lasting, something that would help the plague still hanging over the livings’ heads. And the dead, of course, can not forget Halloween town. No need for such discrimination. Once the stage was set and the curtains pulled, they need only wait and hope the players show up for the show to start.

It was only after three weeks of frustration, fighting, and fretting did it happen. El was, once again, on a several minute lecture of how Sam’s negligence and lack of focus towards their goal and monitoring their equipment could lead to their downfall and in that moment not paying attention to their shift of watching the equipment. Irony, all that sort of jazz, you know?

It was then that Sam rolled her eyes to all of El’s posh, patronizing words did she happen to glance to the monitor, and what did she happen to see? One, singular, red blip on the screen and the start of a steady beat to the signal across three monitors. Sam stared momentarily before standing up from the chair she was lounging in, shoving past her partner who was _offended_ she was brushing them off. Rushing over, clicking here or there, rolling in the chair to the diagram of the city, seeing the shape of the body materializing within the heart of the city.

“El… El, you better put that tantrum away and look at this.”

 Using Sam’s stone shoulder for support, they leaned over, brown eyes widening to the fact that was becoming very apparent before them. “Oh… oh my gosh. A sign of life. A— not exactly… a heart beat is it.” 

“Duh, they don’t… have those…” They awkwardly looked to each other, searching for a word to describe the achievement. Their own hearts beating fast, minds racing. There was so much to do. So many people to inform. So many holes to leap through to keep this secret. 

A shaky gasp as El looked over the specs of the body on the screen above their heads. “That’s… that’s the fourteenth…”

“What?” 

“I specifically did not put in her information, was it you?”

“No— fuck, no, I hadn’t even thought about her!”

Sweat began to form on their brows. Trembling limbs, a nervous bite to the lip, El felt particularly faint, though it could  be due to the lack of sleep; as Sam couldn’t find the proper words. Nor the proper emotions. This is what they wanted to achieve, wasn’t it? And yet, for it to actually happen— a might of dread might be gnawing at her gut in that moment.

“I— I need to inform the king.” El stated quietly before turning and running out of the room, the echo of their sandals slapping on the stone stairs following them.

Sam sat there, taking some time to look back to the lifeline beeping gently in front of her. She touched the screen. Despite knowing El would yell at her, fingerprints are dirty and an imperfection they could not possibly deal with. Honestly, they had best get used to imperfections; all they have planned and intended would not go the way they wanted when the conscious mind was involved, especially those that they were dealing with. There was no way numbers nor calculations, nor spells nor magic could properly predict the outcome of this.

And if, the very large possibility of if, this project failed and deemed a mistake by the very generous commission of the king and his council, both of them would need play god in the worst way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a revitalization of the ideas and rps that populated the days of my high school obsession with kingdom hearts, honestly, this should have been published in like 2007. This is what happens when they take half a decade to reveal big things about their characters. Obvious liberties are taken on what is what, and certain info picked up from later games; overall, it's based on speculations between myself and my ex.
> 
> Other than what's cherry-picked about the somebodies of the o6, others are largely different. It's been about 10 years. Vaguely after whatever they had hinted for years at being what kh3 was going to be with keyblade wars. That sort of stuff. I love kh dearly, but I also hold these ideas very close as they were made.
> 
> For the oc's Sam is a cis girl, El is nonbinary with they/them pronouns. El won't be the only trans person here btw, canon characters are also trans.


	2. A Sign of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vexen awakens first. In pain, with more questions than when he begun his unlife as a Nobody, and nothing to answer them but the darkness of the perpetually stormy sky. What is he to do from here?

The City That Never Was lay in ruins— it lay in ruins despite the fact that there should not even _be_ ruins. There should be no evidence left of its existence, it should have— it was destroyed a long time ago. There was nothing, and yet, now there was. Rain fell. Shattered remains of buildings reappeared from the ground up, filling the flat terrain with clutter. Nothing was perfect. Lights flickered in broken windows, wind howled through open doors, the skyscraper threatened to fall at any moment. Yet they did not.

Over time, bodies dropped. One, two, four, eight. Slowly, over time, as the city grew around them. Nothing of the strict, sharp, and clean it had been known as before. But just enough.

As thirteen bodies lay there.

Unmoving.

And then. An intake of breath. A twitch of an eyelid. The jolt of a limb. Nothing more, at first, of course, it was a slow process as the cold bodies of darkness lay. Slow.

And then one moved.

One of the many body's fingers found strength to clench, fists balling as his arms moved to push himself up; every small bit of energy exerted sent tremors of spiraling to the farthest reaches of his body, earthquakes rattled his skull, and his entire frame shook just from the simple act of sitting up. The figure let out a pathetic cry that at any other time would be beneath him, and then slumped, holding shaking shoulders. Barely able to grip, his entire body would not stop shaking. His insides felt jumped, nausea bumbling in his unsettled stomach. His teeth clattered and his joints ached and his muscles twitched constantly. “W-what in all darkness is going on?"

As he raised his gaze to the tower above, his hood fell revealing greasy blond hair and drenching the one sole dry thing about him. Gaunt cheeks blue and face grim as eyes searched for answers. The sky, of course, had none, nor did the familiar skyscraper. Eyes then lowered to look around him, spying the many other bodies adorned in the organization leather, hoods hiding their countenance to confirm such assumptions of his— _former_ comrades. Vexen heaved another heavy breath, chest tight, the effort it took to stay sitting up strangled his lungs. Another cry from quivering lips, searing agony shooting from the base of his back and burning him alive from head to toe as it would not stop. There was no blood and yet the injury felt fresh. Against his pride, he let out a sob.

After what was clearly the sole moment of weakness he would allow (small lies to get his mind straight for even a moment), he unclamped bony hands from equally bony shoulders and stared at them, wretched gloved things that trembled relentlessly no matter how he willed them to stop. 

All he could feel was pain.

A pain too much for him to bear, if he had ever known it.

Composure was a distant memory as he cried some while longer when the throbbing overtook him yet again. And yet he fought it, attempting to talk himself down.

"Come now Vexen... think... calm... logically... logically.... w-what are you even doing here?" He croaked, putting his face in his hands. "Why are we... lying here... i-in this place..."

The scientist barely recognized the ruins of his previous “home”— the castle most noticeably missing. His gaze turned to the skyscraper yet again as if it would speak and yield the answers he sought, and then back to the bodies that had yet to move. "Why... w-why... I don't... I don't understand...."

More tears began to burn, blurring his vision. "Make this stop!" He hissed out, hunching over. Body revolting from the action, punishing him further, for what, he could not say.

* * *

Vexen had clawed his way along the stones of the square to the nearest building and leaned against it, panting. He was very wary of letting the base of his back touch anything at the moment. Pain still pulsed from it, spreading through his veins with even the slightest breath.

He clawed at his chest, still trying to make sense of anything, trying to breathe without causing himself pain.

He could do neither.

The rain was relentless, and came down in large drops, beating everything they hit. The sound of the pellets hitting the earth was so loud, it filled the air.

A scream ripped through the night; a high-pitched, tortured scream, followed by cries and pleads of not wanting to die. The figure was on the complete other side of the square from Vexen, and he could barely make out the shape as they attempted to sit up, before falling to the side, crying out and holding their gut. Her sobs were drowned out by the sound of the rain.

* * *

A groan sounded after what seemed like days of silence for Vexen. Nothing but the continual sound of rain assaulting the land and his own labored breathing. 

Consciousness seemed like an old friend he was none too happy to meet again. He was unsure what this feeling was, considering he had not felt it in so long, and yes, there was pain undeniably, but that wasn't his concern at the moment. Not in the moment of waking, not that moment, knowing what the last thing he had thought of. Tolerance had nothing to do with it; it was only once his head lulled to the side to spy the slighter body resting beside him did Lexaeus find peace. And that was his mistake, finding peace, as he leaned on the flat of his palm to sit up.

Lightening seeming to strike directly out of the sky and send a terrifying jolt through his body starting with his stomach and working outward; obviously punishing him for the moment of hubris, the selfishness for caring for another person more than himself. His hand slipped on the slick pavement, sending him back to the ground with a painful grunt.

The giant coughed, spitting out blood; he'd bitten his tongue. The rain pelted his face, having been revealed to the world as his hood had fallen back. Letting out a small gasp, he shuddering as he lifted his hands— those heavy, heavy things, to hold his stomach as if they’d assuage the pain palpable through his coat. 

"Ahh-AHH!!! No!! NO!!" The smaller figure next to him shrieked before gripping his face and shrieking from the movement he could not control. A choked sob ripped from his throat, and he curled on his side, crying like a child. He caught sight of his friend and felt razors rip down his throat as he tried to speak. "Lexaeus." His voice was hoarse, barely audible over the weather. The man in question wished he could comfort the boy but... there was only so much he could do in his state. It had been his mistake to think himself able merely moments before.

Lexaeus gulped, as if that would soothe his own throat against the pain brought on by speaking. “It's alright Zexion. I-I'm here. It's alright..."

Far away, by the steps to the skyscraper, another body twitched and attempted to move. But his limbs fell back as he painfully, regrettably began to cry from the ripping sensation that throbbed through his chest and the numbness of his left arm.

* * *

Hours (days?) after, a new voice from a different, sounded above the rain, crying out as the figure grabbed himself and rolled onto his stomach, clutching his chest and sobbing his eyes out. "H-h-h-....HURTS!!!"

“I would heed against moving… number IX..." Vexen managed to say. He winced, instantly wishing he didn't give the neophyte the kindness. His back still throbbed, and his hands still trembled, but he could think a little clearer. He felt as though he could _almost_ get up. Almost. He stayed in his place, frowning when the figure still insisted on moving; he rolled onto his back, still clutching his chest, hood falling back, as they seemed to do.

"H-hurt..." he repeated, regardless of Vexen’s words.

This process seemed to follow down a line, a line Vexen could not find reason to. It was not their numeric, and perhaps some prideful part of him had pondered with the thought of perhaps it was of the most powerful— or of worth. But then Demyx would certainly not be awake as of yet. Not to mention… his eyes traveled across the courtyard, where she lay. Larxene would not have woken up immediately following him. She’d yet to make her consciousness known to anyone other than himself; and now seemed to be taking some time watching as the newly awakened Xaldin and Xigbar writhing in pain.

Smarter than the others, she had done nothing to strain herself, nor attempt to speak. Certainly not to him. They were far enough apart and why _would_ he. It got him through the days to imagine those trembling fingers of his around her traitorous throat.

Oh, how did Xigbar even find it in himself to roll over to vomit? What a lovely observation. And now he’s fallen into it. _Lovely_. Crass man as himself, it was deserving in some way. It would be best if Xaldin didn’t claw at himself. Ah well.

Lexaeus, instead of thriving off the pain of others, had simply resigned to rest and wait for the pain to reside. And while still immobilized from sitting up, he dared to spend his strength to comfort Zexion beside him, patting his head gently. It was familiar. “That’s more now… I wonder what will happen next.”

An agonized chuckle came from next to him; a very low mewl of pain followed after, followed by several low sobs.

"And you... Luxord." The giant murmured, the sharp 'x' clawing at the insides of his throat. “I noticed you wake. There’s no shame, we’re all in p-pain.” 

The man in question raised a trembling hand and covered his face. "I-I'm--" he choked back a sob "--a prideful... p-p-person..."

Again sometime later, the other body near Vexen began to stir as well, his interest peaked to this development. It was going faster now, or so it seemed. What reason for this? There was still no reason for any of this, logically, but there must be some pattern. This one, he’d spied for some time before deducing it as Saix. Perhaps he might at least learn what followed his demise from someone of standing. Cursed that the other body closest had been Demyx, but here there could be some answers and perhaps—

A scream one might mistake for thunder ripped through the air from beneath the hood, louder than the continuous rain that pounded against them, body arching in agony before falling limp against the pavement. And in moments following, found itself again enough for those claws Vexen had used to make the recognition to begin ripping at himself. Hair torn from his head and blood from somewhere on his hidden face.

Well. There goes the possibility of answers. Vexen watched, almost voyeuristically at the display. It’s not as if he could do anything to help. Nor did he want to, but that was besides the point.

Another had woken up at a similar enough time, but with far less flare. Surprisingly, since flare was somewhat of his signature. Making people remember him, flashy and bright, fire, yadda yadda. The pain seemed somewhat deserved, somewhat not, he didn’t really have anything to say as he couldn’t find a voice.

Suffering in silence, his head lulled to the side and seemed to find peace falling upon Roxas’ face, who lay unconscious beside him. He seemed so bright, instantly recognizable. A warmth that lead him back into unconsciousness; a freedom, honestly, from the unrelenting ache from his chest.

* * *

This was the World That Never Was and in that aspect, time did not matter— but for the sake of clarity after what was approximately another week, Vexen had become well enough to stand up, even walk. The rain hadn't let up, leaving everyone soaked and blue. He'd limped here and there to check a majority of the groups’ vitals; it was the least he could do come to some conclusion of their state and possibly how they got here. He slowly made his way to each body, still haggard and in pain; but his curiosity drove him. 

No matter what state they were in, all pain seemed to be internal— most probably nerves. Of course, pushing or prodding areas brought screams and aches, but nothing seemed broken or out of place. Their bodies were husks of darkness still, as emphasized by the empty feeling still weighing in their chests. He had not hoped, but— regardless. It was fact. Xigbar had continued to insist his many scars had reopened, that he’d bleed out, but Vexen didn’t spend much time comforting his delusions. Instead, turning elsewhere to continue his research. Lexaeus had let him examine his body to find a very large scar raking across his abdomen; the man had also confirmed a similar lesion on Vexen’s back. Both seemed to be the epicenter of their remaining pain… And it was a might odd. For their bodies to retain scarring. He’d have to think on this.

Vexen avoided the two figures near the stairs, the process of elimination giving him a good enough guess who the two of those were. Saix snarled and tried to attack him whenever he got close, insisting he did not need assistance nor did he want it. He curled up on his side, facing the wall, keeping his hood on his head. The scientist scoffed and continued. As if he’d force the issue.

He was surprised when he finally got to Axel; not that the traitorous leech was of any interest to him— he was barely conscious. He surprised when, looking next to him, he found Roxas completely awake, but unmoving. "Are you in pain, number XIII?" The boy's face was blank and smooth, not twisted in pain or streaked with tears.

The boy was silent. Vexen waited longer than he felt necessary, and was going to move on when the boy closed his eyes. "...no."

Hm. ”Did it pass over you quickly? An undeserved gift, if I must say."

"No. I was never in pain. I accepted my fate; I wasn't forced to darkness like the rest of you."

There was an impudence in the teen's voice that Vexen didn't like, but he didn't have the energy to retaliate to it. "Oh. Then get up. Help me." Vexen remember this boy; very meek, an empty shell made for taking orders. This would actually be very helpful.

"No. I don't want to."

"What?!" He said a little louder than he wanted to, causing him to cough and lose his balance. He winced as he steadied himself, the wound on his back sending an unfortunate throb crawling up his spine.

"I don't feel like it."

"You little—“

"Move along, please. I don't feel like talking to you either."

If Vexen could, he would have sent an ice spike through the boy's empty chest. Begrudgingly, he made his way back to Lexaeus, sitting at his side. The man had been able to sit up in the time had passed, and had rested Zexion on in his lap; the smaller had been unconscious for a while. To his annoyance, Vexen heard a chuckle as he found his place on the ground. "What's so funny?"

"You shouldn't exert yourself right now. And you should know that."

"Don't lecture me!" He groaned, holding himself from the mere action of tensing his shoulders.

"You're very smart Vexen... but you let your pride cloud that."

"... I... do not like being undermined by younger members."

“ ‘Members?’ ” Lexaeus somehow managed yet another laugh. "What ‘members?’ If you haven't noticed, it's obvious we failed. I remember my death quite clearly. And none of us have hearts, correct? I'm sensing there will be many disputes once everyone awakens."

Vexen sneered, glaring in the direction of two certain people. “Disputes is an understatement, Lexaeus. I intend to unleash my full wrath once I gain the ability to.”

A heavy sigh. "Vexen, please don't be childish. Nonsense and violence won't help us in this situation. I was hoping you of all people would help me in keeping things civil."

"Civil?! Axel and— and— They—“ Another wince and hunching followed the small outburst, hugging himself yet again.

"I know, Vexen, I know. You told me. It is not excusable by any means. I just..." He looked to the one in his lap, balling his fists remembering what Zexion had said to him of his death. "Just keep in mind... we still do not have hearts.."

It's not as if we have the heart to retain rage or grudges, now, do we."

“Who are you to speak to me as if you are so much wiser? As if you know more than I? Who has been attempting to make sense of why we are here? Why we are yet again alive yet not— why we must be given this pain. And yet you speak above me, as if I am to ignore the actions of the man who murdered me?!” He jabbed at Lexaeus’ arm. “Truly, becoming a nobody emptied more than your chest.”

He did not take kindly to this comment.

All the nobodies were having their own little issues. Some words from Roxas to the unconscious Axel. Larxene seemed to be yelling at no one in particular. And there may have been a scream from the big man himself, number one, but most did their best to ignore it.

The rain still fell.

More people were able to sit up, find their legs to walk. Pain not subsided, lingering. But they fought. It was as they did. Xaldin and Xigbar made their way over to Lexaeus and Luxord. Zexion went in and out of consciousness in his friend’s lap. Larxene stayed on her own, chattering at times and throwing herself this way and that. Vexen eventually shuffled over to his old friend and muttered an unconvincing apology. Roxas sat next to Axel, Demyx eventually crawling over and sitting beside the teen. Saix stayed curled in his same position.

Xemnas and Marluxia did not move.

They could only guess how much time passed. But no one talked for a very long time.

Axel woke up, eventually. When Roxas made an attempt to walk him over to the rest of the group, he was met with nothing but cool ice from multiple members, much to Lexaeus insisting they were being childish; so the effort was abandoned.

Finally, someone spoke.

Larxene pushed herself up off the wall she had taken to sleeping against in the odd hours and walked over to the rest of the group; they didn't pay her much mind. Simply another to join the group, only Vexen slighted by her person. She crossed her arms and leaned her weight to one side, frowning down at them. "So? What do we do now?"

This question hung in the air, as thick as the curtains of rain surrounding them. They looked to each other, trying to decide an answer.

"Are you serious? Have you just been sittin' here together in your little friendship circle just— have you just— ugh, are you just planning on sitting out in the rain for forever?!" she shrieked, ‘feeling’ ‘frustrated.’ Larxene bit her lip and held herself after the little outburst, still a little too weak to handle the tension in her body caused by yelling.

"Well, what do you suppose we should do?" Vexen scoffed, sitting with his back to her. "It is unnecessary for us to voice how verily screwed we are with no where to go. What do you _suppose_ we do?"

"Let's go inside."

The group turned, seeing Demyx standing before them, wincing slightly; Roxas stood in his shadow supporting Axel yet again.

"Where exactly is this 'inside,' number IX?" Vexen said spitefully. "If you haven't noticed, the castle is gone. There's nowhere to go 'inside' to. Don’t waste breath on such stupid—”

"Hush, Vexen," Lexaeus silenced him. He looked to Demyx, "What are you proposing, Demyx?" The man shifted awkwardly. "Come now, Vexen is always like this. _I_ am not discouraging you."

"Well, we were talking it over, and even if uh— even if it's not our castle, and even if they're a bit run down…” He pointed and they followed his finger to a building sitting nearby. It was— quite put together. Considering the other wreckage of nearly everything else around them. “That one. It looks okay. It's better than being out in the rain. And maybe it’ll have dry clothes, we don't really know what’s around here… but, it's worth a try." He bit his lip, turning to Roxas, "I told you I wasn't the right guy to talk about this! Why couldn't you?"

"Hmph, that's fine by me," Xaldin shrugged. "Anything's better than sitting out here."

"Yeah dude, that's cool with me," Xigbar managed a grin.

"Quite," Luxord agreed. He looked to Vexen, "I wonder why the _scientist_ didn't think of such a thing sooner. Since he has such amazing intelligence and can undermine anyone he sees beneath him."

"Don't speak in such a way to your superior!!"

"What superior?!" Larxene sneered. "Act like there's an organization left for you to claim to be so 'superior' in!!"

"Quiet! You traitorous hag!!"

“You old bitch! Don’t you dare speak—”

"ENOUGH." Lexaeus voice sounded firm above all others. "Fighting will get us nowhere at the moment. If you all insist on making pointless squabbles instead of acting like adults, do it after we get _inside_."

Xigbar glanced towards the stairs. "What do we do with those two?"

"I suppose if no one's up to it, I'll carry them in once I bring Zexion in."

"I told you I-I'm fine, Lexaeus."

“We will see how well you walk, then deem if you are ‘fine.’ ”

"I... might help," Xaldin spoke up, as he rose from the ground, as did the others. "I'm still feeling worse for wear but... I think I can manage."

"Thank you," the taller nodded, setting the smaller man in his arms down on the ground. He wobbled, but kept his footing, insisting yet again that he was fine.

"I guess I can grab one now, make it quick--"

"Leave them."

A figure appeared before them, soundless and alarming. Not a step had been heard, not a sense given away. But that was like him, wasn’t it. The stoic, monotone voice was one they felt they had not heard in years. Saix reached up and pulled down his hood. " _Both_ of them. We owe neither of them the kindness." His countenance was— unexpected. The right half of his face wretched and twisted, skin pinched and raw and painful to look at. Ear wittled down and eye gazed over white; lip split and revealing his teeth gum and all. And ugly sight and one that left them speechless.

Zexion was the first to manage anything but gape. “You are telling us to leave Xemnas? You— of all people?”

"Why do you act surprised? They were both traitors. For members who perished under Marluxia, I'll inform you that Xemnas never had any intention of granting us hearts. He only wanted Kingdom Hearts to grant himself god-like powers. He was a filthy liar and deserves more pain that he probably received upon his death."

"Saix, I would think that you would at least be mature enough to agree with me! This is no time for fighting."

"Lexaeus," he glared up at the much taller man. "I suppose I will be willing to overlook a few... insects among these nobodies," he said this with eyes only for Axel, "But not those two. Simply leave them out here to freeze and die yet again. That is the only kindness I'll offer. A death not at my own hands."

Lexaeus stared at him, his eyes slightly wide, his hands clenching. He knew the feeling he had in his stomach. He knew that things were extremely volatile right now and he did not feel like escalating the situation any more than it has been up to this point. Saix decided in the time it was taking for Lexaeus to find an answer that the conversation was done; he said his piece and was instead getting out of the rain himself.

He knew that Saix was angry, and— he still had not the proper words to voice for their situation. Why did it seem he was the only one to realize?  He tucked it away for later with a sigh, and started helping those that needed it into the apartment buildings. Xaldin, Luxord, and Xigbar had decided on teamwork and they were all holding each other up and moving towards the buildings. He nodded in their directions.

Vexen attempted to snap at Demyx for helping Axel (most probably out of some sort of spite for actually being helpful where Vexen had failed) and yet Demyx snapped back. A sudden change. "My name is Demyx. I am not a number!” 

Beyond the cracked glass doors was a spacious entry way. A small door to the side— a storage room. And past the hallway, a kitchen of some notable size. Doors to bedrooms lined the halls on either side, four on one, four on the other. White walls, faded red carpet. A leak here or there, a creak, the rain sounding far away for the first time in— nobody (ha) was sure how long. It was welcome. There was a slam to Lexaeus’ left, and he could only assume Saix had already claimed a room somewhere in the darkness. Further inspection past the door closest to him on the right lead to quite a spacious bedroom, empty walls of faded red wallpaper, two beds, empty desks. Odd. Very odd. Very together. A bathroom as well. Zexion had ended behind him and was already fighting his way out of his drenched clothing. 

Ah. So this will be their room. He pat his friend’s head, who made a displeasured sound. “I’m mad at you.”

“I know.” He left it at that, still having business to do. It was best not to become too comfortable yet. He found Xaldin staring forlornly over the dark kitchen, shadows from the light of the entrance casting quite a shadow. “Xaldin, shall we?”

"Of course. Come on." The two put their hoods back on and made their way outside, as much as both regretted their better judgement. Well. Lexaeus’ better judgment and Xaldin’s mild indifference.

"So... what do you think of this?"

"Of what?" Lexaeus questioned, knowing exactly what he was asking. Not eager for it to be their small talk.

"I don't know... of all this? I mean... bring us back after all that's happened is more like causing a small genocide. We're all going to kill each other," Xaldin stated.

" ‘Bring us back?’ Do you supposed someone revived us?"

"I'm not sure... but is there anything else to think? I know Vexen is driving himself up a wall with theories, but I can not think it was some sort of cosmic miscalculation. Why would we reappear, unchanged, after... All I could think is that certain enemies would want to properly punish us. Or at least, that's what I'd want to do if someone fucked up my worlds as much as we had."

"You suppose the King would order this?"

"Who knows what lies under that supposedly friendly mouse exterior. Remember that tiger?"

“It was a tiger, Xaldin.” 

“He was a very charming tiger.”

“I can not believe we’re having another conversation about Shere Khan. Enough with your strange attraction to a tiger— we're talking about a mouse." Lexaeus pointed out as Xaldin groaned, crouching down next to the bodies.

“First of all, I was not attracted to him. I just thought he was charming. Second, how else could this be possible, if not someone of that immense power? He could have found someone with such a skill…”

"Vexen _did_ have the ability to bring one back from the brink of death." Not that he ever used it much, Lexaeus rolled his eyes at his own thought.

"But we weren't at the bring of death. We _were_ dead."

They were silent for a moment.

"Can you please pick his flowery ass up," Lexaeus muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to admit, since I'm trying to be civil, but I think I'd break his neck at this point if I got the chance."

Xaldin scowled, “Fine.” His eyes gazed over his old… not exactly sure if he could call him a friend. “Xemnas... it's not all that hard to take in. He was a bastard through and through, no matter how much time we spent together.”

"I suppose I'll take him." Both hoist the respective treacherous bastards over their shoulders, biting back whatever was building in their throat over such an action. "I apologize for making you do this. I know you are still in much more pain than I."

"It's fine," Xaldin grunted.

As they turned to leave, both stopped, and turned right back; what was that they just saw? A flash of white? It seemed they turned a little too quickly, their ankles and necks throbbing from the abrupt movement. An enemy—

She peaked out from behind the pillars of the stairs, frail and soaked, her white dress beyond transparent. Blonde hair drenched, clung to her face and trembling shoulders. She nearly shrieked upon being noticed yet again, returning to her not-so-hiding place.

"Namine," Xaldin blinked, "She... as well?"

Lexaeus' brow furrowed; he could only think of the disputes this would cause, not to mention what grudges she may hold against them. Yet another complication; she had only been a tool to them, and he’d never thought much of such an action and what it might cause a person to become. But it mattered not. She was a nobody as they, and kindness, even as a falsehood, was all to be offered as of now. As well as his hand extended towards her direction. "Come with us, we won't hurt you. We're just getting out of the rain."

"Where have you been?" Xaldin inquired. He hadn't seen head or hair of the girl until this moment; surely she didn't wake before them?

It took a moment before she surrendered herself to their sight yet again, pointing to the skyscraper behind her. “In there… Out of the rain… watching all of you."

"It's understandable you'd hide," the giant sighed. “But really, come with us. There's nothing more we can exert out of your abilities, no reason to at this point. The shelter we found… it seems better than that old skyscraper.” Certainly not falling apart as much.

She stood her ground, hesitant, clinging to the pillar. Of course trust would not come so easily, why would he expect any different.

Lexaeus and Xaldin met each others’ gaze and nodded; they turned away. "You can follow if you wish." They didn't feel like spending any more time out in the torrential downpour for a lost cause.

As they made their way back, Xaldin noticed over his shoulder she was following none to closely behind, but she was indeed following them. Once inside, they went to the nearest room to the left, tossing the unconscious bodies onto the beds without much grace. "There, they can kill each other when they wake up and fix the problem."

"Xaldin." They closed the door behind them, finding Namine standing by the door, completely soaked, still in a dress more than transparent. She clung to the wall, possibly regretting her decision. It was a silent stare down, none of the three sure when to move or what would happen. This would make things complicated, certainly. It would be best to make amends now. Extending hand yet again—

And Namine flinched, ducking beneath both of them and scrambling to the room opposite of the one just opened, slamming the door shut behind her. The tiny click of a lock sounding after it. That was the way it was to be.

“What now?”

“Apparently I am the one with all the answers now, Xaldin?”

“You got us this far without killing each other, how did you even keep Vexen down?”

Lexaeus only groaned. He wanted to sleep, a very long sleep.

 


End file.
